"You have a lot of nerve for a guest," Nyx said. His voice was melodic, almost pleasant, which only made the threat behind it feel more jagged. "Breaking my equipment, scaring my recruits... you're making my facility look like a playground, Kenzo."
Kenzo forced himself to take a single, agonizing step forward. "I'm not a guest. And I'm definitely not your 'subject.' If you want me to stay, try asking."
Nyx's eyes flickered with a dangerous amusement. "Asking? You think your survival gives you a seat at the table? You're an anomaly. A bug in the system."
Nyx raised his right hand. The air around his palm began to ripple and scream as energy condensed into a shimmering, blue sphere of pure force.
"That's enough, Commander."
The pressure snapped like a wire.
Hans appeared in the blur between them, his back to Kenzo. He wasn't in a fighting stance, but his feet were planted firmly, his own energy acting as a physical buffer against the weight Nyx was projecting.
"Step aside, Hans," Nyx warned, the blue light in his hand pulsing. "This one needs to learn his place."
"His place is wherever I put him," Hans replied. His voice was flat, unyielding, even as the floor tiles beneath his boots began to fracture under the strain. "I was the one who authorized this. I brought him into The Core knowing the protocols. If there is a breach in discipline, it falls on me."
"You're defending a variable, Hans. That's not like you," Nyx said, narrowing his eyes.
"He is the reason I am standing here to be lectured," Hans said. The admission was short and clipped, clearly grating against his pride. "He held the line. Because I brought him here, he can never go back. His exile is my fault. Therefore, he is my responsibility."
The lobby fell into a deathly silence.
Nyx looked at Hans for a long moment, then shifted his gaze to Kenzo, who was still catching his breath. Finally, The Commander let out a short, sharp exhale. The heavy pressure vanished, and the blue sphere in his hand dissolved into mist.
"Fine," Nyx said, turning his back and beginning to walk back up the stairs. "He's your problem now. You and Naomi can deal with the training. But hear me—Hans, if his 'Distortion' causes even a single flicker in The Core's frequency, I won't just erase him. I'll erase the person who brought him here, too."
Kenzo stood there, his heart still hammering. He looked at Hans's back, feeling a surge of frustration. "I didn't need you to take the blame for me."
"I didn't do it for you," Hans said, finally turning around. His eyes were as cold as ever. "I did it because I don't leave debts unpaid. You saved us. Now, I am ensuring you survive the consequences."
"Look, I get it," Kenzo said, stepping forward. "I'm stuck here. I'm an 'anomaly.' And apparently, I can't go home without bringing a nightmare back with me." He looked at his hands, then back at Hans. "I've spent my whole life hoping to make a difference in some way. I never knew how, or where, or when. But if this world, this power, is what I have to do to finally make that impact, then I'll do it."
A voice came from the shadows of the main corridor. Naomi stepped out, her eyes fixed on Kenzo with a mixture of disbelief and blunt curiosity.
"Does he really want to protect a world that's completely foreign to him?" she asked, her voice echoing in the vast lobby. "He's talking about 'making an impact' for a place that didn't even exist to him twenty-four hours ago. That's a lot of talk for a guy who just lost his entire life."
Kenzo looked at her, then out the massive glass windows. He felt the weight of her question. He thought of his brother, the restaurant, the bike, and the quiet rhythm of his old life. It was gone.
All of it.
"Maybe it is foreign," Kenzo said quietly. "But the things that tried to kill you? They're the same ones that attacked my home. If I can't go back, then I'll make sure no one else has to lose their world either."
Naomi stared at him. "He's got a big mouth for a dead guy. But at least he isn't boring."
Hans didn't smile, but the edge of his gaze softened, if only by a fraction. He turned back toward the deeper levels of the facility.
"Meet me in the storage room in an hour," Hans commanded over his shoulder. "Naomi will show you around. Don't wander off again, Kenzo. The next person you run into might not be in the mood to talk."
***
The walk through the headquarters was a blur of silver-white corridors and glass walkways that seemed to hang suspended. Naomi walked with a slight limp, but she didn't slow down.
Kenzo followed her, his eyes darting toward the various training bays where recruits practiced with weapons that pulsed with otherworldly energy. The scale of the place made him feel small.
"You're staring again," Naomi said without looking back.
"It's hard not to," Kenzo admitted. "Everything here... it's like a fever dream." He paused, his mind drifting back to the dark alleyway and the creature that had nearly ended him. "That thing. The monster. You called it a Remnant. What actually is it?"
Naomi stopped at a massive window that looked out over the District 1 skyline. The silver-violet sky was swirling with clouds.
"To be honest, Kenzo, even the commanders don't know the exact 'why' of them," she said, her face reflecting the strange sky. "But to put it simply? They're ghosts. Dead life forms from a dying reality."
"Ghosts?" Kenzo repeated, a small, lopsided smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Oh, like in the movies! No wonder it didn't scare me all that much. Horror was always my favorite genre back home."
Naomi turned her head, giving him a look that was somewhere between annoyance and disbelief. "This isn't a theater, Kenzo. Those things don't go away. They don't just kill you, they erase the space you occupied."
She turned back to the window. "Think of reality like a tree. The Trunk is what you're standing on now—The Core. The original path. The Branches are the alternates. Usually, they grow parallel to us, stable and quiet. But sometimes, a reality veers too far off the path. It becomes too drastic, too different from the Core. When that happens, the Branch starts to rot."
She gestured to the vastness beyond the glass. "We call it the Path of the Dead. When a world dies, the living beings in it don't just disappear. They become twisted. Disfigured. They lose their humanity and turn into Remnants, beings that have lost their home and now wander the other branches, hungry for the life they lost."
Kenzo felt the humor drain out of him. The image of the creature from the alleyway, the scribbled-out face, the static-filled screech flashed in his mind. It wasn't a movie monster. It was a living being who had lost their entire universe.
"If they come from dying realities," Kenzo started, his voice barely a whisper, "then why was it there? Why was it in my home reality?"
Naomi didn't look away. She didn't soften the blow. "Remnants don't wander into healthy worlds, Kenzo. There has to be a 'crack' in the door for them to slip through. If that thing was in your restaurant, it's because your reality was already showing signs. It was veering off. It was starting to die."
"So even if you hadn't brought me here..." Kenzo's voice cracked. "My world was doomed anyway?"
"Most likely," Naomi said. She reached out and tapped a console on the wall, and a map of the facility flickered into view. "But you aren't there anymore. You're here. And in the Trunk, we don't just watch the branches fall. We cut out the rot."
She started walking again. "Come on. The storage room is just ahead. Hans isn't the type of person you want to keep waiting."